


history, repeat

by withoutwords



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Brief Injury, Friends to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mention of guns, Mentions of Violence, Minor Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 06:15:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14826906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutwords/pseuds/withoutwords
Summary: He’s so much of himself when he’s with Adrian, so who is he otherwise? Who’s the guy with the bloody knuckles, or the wad of cash or the gun pointed in someone’s face?Would Adrian still want to be his friend?





	history, repeat

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something I wrote in consideration of who Deran is becoming, while still fighting the family curse. I centred it around Adrian because I love him? And Deran loves him? And he’s the best version of himself with Adrian. Thanks for reading x

Adrian blows back into town mid-morning, catching Deran say goodbye to whatever guy he slept with the night before and looking ten shades of embarrassed. Deran wonders what that means, when Adrian literally knows every inch of him.

Or used to. 

“Hey, man, I’m sorry - ” Adrian says for the tenth time, Deran pulling on a shirt and scoffing at him.

“ _ Dude _ . I don’t even remember his name, you don’t need to get all - ”

“Not about,” he cuts in, looking all embarrassed again. “About  _ Baz _ . I would have liked to have been here for the paddle out, but I - ”

“It’s fine,” Deran insists, almost hating himself for the way his voice falters. Adrian doesn’t need to be responsible for Deran, or his problems, any more. He deserves better. “He was an asshole to you anyway. We all were.”

Adrian chews on his bottom lip. “Craig was alright.”

“Fuck.” Deran laughs for what feels like the first time in too long. “Yeah. Craig’s always been alright.”

There’s a pause, quiet and awkward, but Deran doesn’t have time to process before Adrian’s pulling him in for a hug. He bows to it, breathes him in, a small whisper of a  _ thank you _ that he hopes Adrian hears. It’s strange to feel the weight of him there, strong and supporting. 

“There’s something else we need to talk about, too” Adrian says when they pull apart, and Deran feels it clench in his stomach. “Your hair. What the hell man?”

Deran lets out a bark of laughter, yanking at it self consciously. “I know.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this short. Have I?”

“Probably not. I got tired of having to tie it back every night.”

“Oh it’s because you’re lazy. I should’ve known.”

“It’s because I’m lazy,” Deran agrees, then yanks at Adrian’s hair too, just because he can.

 

*

 

Adrian’s back in his life. It’s a lot simpler than he thought it would be - a lot easier, too, which is all to Adrian’s credit. Deran’s not the sort to forgive and forget - he couldn’t with his own mother, and wasn’t he just like her? Abuse the people you love the most so you can pretend you’re in control?

Deran lost control a long time ago.

“You should have more media presence,” Adrian’s telling him as they share a drink at the bar. He was always dropping in randomly - sometimes with friends, sometimes alone. “Twitter, Instagram.”

“I think Nicky put us on Facebook.”

Adrian almost spat out his beer. “No one’s finding you on there.”

“Well, I don’t know! I only have an iPhone ‘cause Craig was too embarrassed to be seen with me and my old one.

“I’m gonna help you out,” he says to Deran, grinning around the mouth of his bottle and looking more beautiful than he could remember.

“Oh you are?”

“I am.”

“Oh, okay. Alright,” Deran turns to Alannah, the new girl, and says, “Adrian’s gonna help us out,” while listening to Adrian laugh behind him. 

She just waves a towel.

“We surrender.”

 

*   
  


Adrian’s studying a lot, and Deran’s trying to keep the bar afloat, and Pope and J are trying to  sabotage whatever’s left of their friendship outside of that. Deran thinks about that stuff a lot more now than he ever used to when he and Adrian were … whatever they were. Best Friends, Lovers, Boyfriends.

No. Never boyfriends.

These days he looks at his hand wrapped around a gun and thinks about it wrapped around Adrian’s shoulder. Around a surfboard or a beer or a pool cue. He’s so much of himself when he’s with Adrian, so who is he otherwise? Who’s the guy with the bloody knuckles, or the wad of cash or the gun pointed in someone’s face?

Would Adrian still want to be his friend?

“Best movie from the last five years?”

Deran stifles his laughter. “God, that is such an Adrian thing to ask.”

“What! You like movies!”

“Never as much as you did.”

“That’s true.” Adrian throws a chip in his mouth before pointing an accusing finger. “You’d always fall asleep during them and have to sneak out my window in the morning.”

He just smiles. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve seen any movies lately that didn’t have superheroes in them.”

“That’s not such a bad thing.”

“But not the sort of movies you like,” Deran says, trying not to give away the fact he remembers all the movies Adrian liked. His movie collection, the posters on his walls, the premieres he used to get excited for. 

“I liked Guardians of the Galaxy.”

“I don’t know what that is but it sounds lame enough for you to like it.”

“Fuck you!” Adrian cries around his laughter. “I’ll have to bring it around to yours one day. I think you’d like it.”

“Okay, I’ll hold you to that.”

“Okay.”

 

*

 

Adrian had a pretty normal life, growing up. Deran used to hang out at his place all the time; to get away from Smurf, and her boyfriends, to pretend for a little while that he could have the same things. A nice little house, a normal mum, a sister that was a pain in the arse but otherwise harmless.

Adrian only went to Deran’s once or twice, and it had been enough. Deran remembers him saying something about it once - about it being mechanical. Stepford.

It took him a while to understand.

“I met my father,” Deran hears himself say, barely glancing up at Adrian to see the surprise. “Fuck, I wasn’t going to tell you that.”

“You weren’t going to  _ tell me _ ?”

“I just don’t want you … “

“What?” Adrian spits out, squinting and scornful. “Knowing things about you?”

“No! No, man, it’s not like that. It’s just - you put up with a lot of shit from me and I don’t want that to happen again.” Deran notices the tension start to trickle back from his shoulders. “You shouldn’t be dragged into this any more.”

“Dragged?” Adrian repeats, softer now. “I think I’m old enough and dumb enough to decide on my own.”

“If you say so.”

“So? What did he say for himself?”

“Not much. He wants me to believe he’s not back for any reason but to meet me.”

Adrian’s scoff makes Deran smile. “It only took him twenty five years.”

“That’s what I said. Plus, with Smurf in jail he’s probably just a vulture looking to pick at the remains.”

The shock on Adrian’s face doesn’t go unnoticed, but he doesn’t say anything. He hasn’t said her name out loud, not since Adrian got back - and he’d rather pretend she didn’t exist. For both their sakes. “Well, just. Watch out for yourself, man. I mean, I know the guys have your back but - I worry about you.”

“Yeah. Sure. I’ll be careful.”

 

*   
  


Adrian’s on a date when Deran stops into his favourite Chinese place to pick up an order. Before, he would have turned and ran without bothering to pick up his dinner. Instead he makes eye contact, they wave, and nothing else happens. The sky doesn’t fall in, Deran doesn’t break a law, no one gets hurt.

Except. Well. It does hurt. Which is probably a good thing, all things considered. He’s been trying to turn it all off lately - Baz, his Dad, whatever shit that’s going on with Pope and J that’s going to get one of them or both of them in jail. Or dead.

Being around Adrian helps him deal with all that. 

But Adrian’s not his, and Adrian’s not responsible for him, and it hurts.

And that’s good. It helps Deran remember.

“That guy, the other night,” Adrian starts to say a few days later, picking at the label on his bottle. He almost seems guilty, which Deran  _ hates _ . He wants the guy that walked out on him and his bullshit. He wants Adrian to be okay.

“You don’t have to explain.”

“No, I know. I was just gonna say - we’ve been out a few times. He’s a good guy.”

“That’s good, man. What’s his name?”

“Brian. We met on campus.”

“Oh, a scholar.”

Adrian snorts. “Right. Is that what you call me?”

“Scholarly enough to get the Broken Boards Instagram going. We have a few hundred followers now.”

“I saw that, that’s awesome.”

“Now I just have to figure out this whole hashtag thing and we’ll be great.”

“You really are an old man, aren’t you?”

“I prefer old soul.”

“Decrepit, old man,” Adrian teases, ducking out of the way when Deran throws the beer coaster at his head from the table. Deran could watch him smile all day.

 

*   
  


Adrian’s in sweat pants and nothing else when he answers the door and Deran keeps fighting back the  _ wrong, wrong, wrong, _ chanting in his head. He fucked up and he’s hurt and he had nowhere else to go, but he shouldn’t be here,  _ he can’t be here _ .

“Deran?”

“I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry - are you alone?”

“Yeah? What’s...?”

Deran moves his shirt enough to show his bloodied side - as if Adrian’s gasps and cursing isn’t enough to tell him it’s bad, it hurts like a motherfucker. The bloods not gushing out, but he knows that’s not always a good thing; he’s already black and purple with the bruising and he has to wonder if any of his ribs copped it too.

“Come in, Jesus, get into the bathroom.”

Adrian helps him to strip down into his briefs, running around to get supplies while Deran sinks down onto the tiled floor and tries to catch his breath. He can hear Adrian calling to him - what happened to you? what’s going on? - but he’s too out of it to really answer. And he’s scared of telling him too much.

“I walked into a door,” he says when Adrian asks again, and Adrian fixes him with a look and a threat of hurting Deran more than he already is. “Alright, alright, I was on a job. I fell. That’s all I’m telling you.”

“I thought you were getting out of this shit, huh?”

“I was!” Deran says, hissing as Adrian starts to clean up the wound. “I am. We just need to get some things in order and i can - ”

“We? Who’s we? Because I never see that good for nothing family at your bar, helping out. I never hear you talk about them, or - ”

“Adrian!” Deran yells with as much strength as he can muster. “Stop. Please.” 

Adrian falls back onto his knees, rubbing at his head with a wrist while his hands are covered in blood. Deran could cry. He didn’t want this. This was the last thing he wanted. “You need to go to a hospital.”

“No. No I just,” Deran tried to sit up a little, the pain shooting through him like an electric shock. He shouts. “Just give me a minute and I’ll go home.”

“Don’t be stupid. Jesus. Just - can you get in the shower? We need to get you cleaned up and into bed.”

Deran fights back the  _ Yes, Doc _ , and slowly makes his way to his feet.

 

*

 

Adrian has him watch Guardians of the Galaxy. Then they watch Mad Max, and Get Out, and something with Leonardo DiCaprio fighting a bear. (Adrian gives him so much shit for falling asleep during that one because,  _ he finally won a fucking Oscar for that movie, Deran!) _ It takes two days for Craig to find him - two days and so many missed calls that Deran had just texted that he was okay and turned his phone off.

It was like being kids again.

Pretending he could have this sort of normal. And have it with Adrian.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Craig yells at him when Adrian lets him in. “After what happened with Baz, you think a text message makes it okay to fucking disappear?”

“What else do you want me to do? I can barely fucking move! And I don’t need Pope or the old man knowing where I am.”

Adrian doesn’t need it.

“What about me, huh? You think I’m gonna go running to them? I told you you’re the only one I trust.”

“I know, man,” Deran concedes, letting out the breath he was holding. “I know.”

“Give me a look,” Craig says, sitting onto the bed next to him and pulling Deran’s shirt up. “Fucking hell. That looks bad.”

“No shit.”

“I should give Hank a call. Or Wally. He was okay last time.”

“No.  _ No _ .” If Craig can figure out where he is, then a visit from a backstreet doctor will mean other people figure out where he is too. “It’s fine. I just need another day or two. Alright?”

Craig looks over his shoulder, to Adrian. “You right to look after my boy a little longer?”

“Yeah,” Adrian says, defiant. The look he gives Deran makes his hand clench into the bedsheets. “As long as he needs.”

 

*   
  


Adrian kisses him first. Which was always hard to believe when they were kids so now, as adults, (and after everything Deran has done to him) - it’s nothing short of impossible. It’s not gentle, either, like last time he went away. It doesn’t feel like an ending the way that kiss did.

It’s strong, and determined, Deran’s back against the wall - Adrian trying to pull at his belt and his shirt and whatever he can get his hands on.

“Whoah, whoah,” Deran pants, getting hands on Adrian’s shoulders to stop him. He’s starry eyed and red lipped and Deran wants nothing more than to throw him over his shoulder and take him upstairs. But he can’t. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t - we can’t do this.”

Adrian blinks at him. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“No! I’m into bad shit, Adrian, you know I am. I’d protect my brother with my life, and I’ll kill my own father if he tried to hurt him.” Deran gives his shoulders a shake. “That’s fucked up. You deserve better.”

“I deserve - no,  _ fuck you _ ,” Adrian spits at him, yanking himself out of Deran’s grip. “You think I wouldn’t take all that shit, last time? Smurf, and your brothers, and all the crazy shit you got up to? I wasn’t afraid of that. I was afraid of  _ you _ . Of who you became because you were too ashamed to be yourself. But you are yourself now, you’re completely yourself, and I want that. I want that so much.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“If you don’t want me then just say so, don’t hide behind your fucked up family legacy. Don’t pretend like I’m in any more danger now then I was back then, because that’s bullshit, you know it is.”

Deran just shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes as they threaten to well up on him. He wanted this for Adrian. For him to be headstrong, and certain. For him to protect himself from hurt. He just never considered that he could be part of it. Not like this. 

“I’m in love with you,” Adrian says, and it makes Deran gasp like the pain of his fall had. It stings in his eyes, grips at his throat.  “I’ve been in love with you since we were fifteen years old and you told me to eat shit because I cut in on your wave. So don’t tell me I don’t deserve whatever you’ve got for me, Deran, don’t pretend you don’t know what this is.”

Deran pulls him in to kiss him back. It’s sweet and slow and grazing - it’s the sort of gentleness they haven’t had since Belize, since Deran could unwind and be free. Be Adrian’s.  

“I love you too,” he whispers against Adrian’s mouth, kissing him again.

 

*   


 

Adrian sleeps on the same side of the bed. He snores softly and wriggles a lot and his feet are  _ freezing _ where they touch at Deran’s skin. He’s perfect. From the freckles on his nose to the scar on his lower leg from when they were kids and messed around on the rocks after dark. 

Deran had sat in the Emergency Room with him all night.

“Would you ever go?” Adrian asks into the dark, tracing patterns with his finger on Deran’s face, his mouth. “Just dump everything and get out of here?”

“If you wanted me to.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Deran sighs, rolling onto his side so that they’re eye to eye. It’s not that he can see much - only light pooling under the door from the bathroom, and the moon shining fairly bright outside. “Okay, then no. I have you, and Craig, and the bar. I don’t want anything else.”

“You never wanted to disappear?”

“All the time,” Deran tells him honestly, because when he didn’t have surfing, he didn’t have anything. “But when I used to think about it, I’d think about taking you with me.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. So it would have to be somewhere with a beach. And we’d have to get a dog. And there’d need to be culture, and all that shit, to keep you occupied.”

“All that shit,” Adrian says, teasingly, but it’s weighted, it’s soft. Deran can still surprise him.

“I always wanted to take care of you,” he says, getting Adrian onto his back and kissing his shoulder, his chest. “I wanted to hold you and kiss you and fuck you - but I also wanted to make sure you got home safe, or you never went too hard at a club, or you always came back after every tournament. You never left me.”

He’s still kissing, down, down, Adrian’s hands twisted in Deran’s hair as his hips buck up invitingly. Deran tugs at his dick, noses at his balls, gets his mouth around him and savours it all. 

“Fuck me,” Adrian’s groaning into the night, bringing his knees up as if that might convince him any more. “Please, Deran _fuck me_.”

“Okay, okay,” Deran hushes, rubbing at his tense thighs, mouthing further down. “Relax. We’ve got all night.”

*

No.

“We’ve got forever.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr.](http://thefancyspin.tumblr.com)


End file.
